


Beaten and Broken and Chased From the Land

by TallysGreatestFan



Series: Shadow Weavers arrival at the Horde [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adjusting, Ambivalent Relationship, Bisexual Character, F/M, For the Love of Shadow Weaver, Graphic Description of Wounds, POV Alternating, Subtle Power Play, magic as science
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:14:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23040805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallysGreatestFan/pseuds/TallysGreatestFan
Summary: After changing sides, Shadow Weaver has to get adjusted to life in the Horde. She is not quite sure how much she can trust the Lord of the Horde armies, and how much she is in a power play with him already. However he seems to have the same questions
Relationships: Hordak/Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)
Series: Shadow Weavers arrival at the Horde [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655872
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Beaten and Broken and Chased From the Land

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if this is an AU, or how much

„And how is your name?“

„Shadow Weaver.“, she said with a growl. Her injured lips burned at speaking, but somehow that made it sound even more fitting. It felt natural. As if Light Spinner and her truly would be completely separate people. She remembered everything of course, every refusal, every humiliation, every failure, but it was as if trough a veil. It had a different tint than how reality felt now. Not as sharp and high-contrasted, this boiling energy, like anger, at the edge of her consciousness.

If they didn’t wanted her power, if they treated her like that, they didn’t deserved her. Light Spinner had been to weak, to reliant on the praise of others to realize that. Shadow Weaver was not.

She looked Hordak right in the eye: “I suspect you need a mage, from how your army operates without magic.”

He stopped circling her, and looked up and down her, from her hair hovering with magic, her bleeding eyes, her face half covered with bandages, her dirty, blood-stained and ripped sorcerers robes. She must look horrifying, and she liked it.

“Continue.”, he had an surprisingly deep and pleasant voice. He also belonged to a species she did not recognize, pointy ears similar to her own, but his eyes were completely red, sclera, iris and pupil alike, his nose resembled that of certain bat species, and as he spoke, she could see that his teeth were red, too. Right over his sharp cheekbones his skin changed color from page-white to an greyish blue. People from everywhere over the planet came to Mystacor, so she should have known every species of Etheria, and that she could not place him at all unnerved her a bit. Did he look naturally like this or was it as result of an injury or cybernetic enhancement?

He was also very tall, even slightly taller than her, and quite broad shouldered and muscular, so much that even his armor clearly showed this. He looked deadly already like this, she wondered what he could do with an actual weapon. There must be a reason why he was leader of the Horde.

“I offer to become your armies sorcerer.”, she said nonchalant, as if she had a choice. But she didn’t let to know him that, did she?

He lead her to an small room with an plank bed and an bath room all for her own. She was not sure if he had done that to keep his soldiers from getting all scared – oh, the terrified gazes of the few they had meet on their way! – or because someone from her rank was getting this much luxury in the Horde.

As she was alone, she let herself sink on the bed. She was full of adrenaline, and her magic felt more powerful than it ever had, so that she had not even realized how exhausted her physical body was. As she looked at her hands, scarred and grey instead of light green, they where trembling, and her legs felt jittery and as if they would stop working right underneath her. She barely had the energy to get up again and look for the bandages, balms and pain medications, but considering how widespread her injuries were she did not want anything of it to get inflamed. As she had flown from Mystacor she had only had time to deal with the wounds on her face, where it seemed to be the most dire.

So she stumbled to the shower, started to pull her robe over her head – and shrieked in pain. The blood and exsudate of her wounds had dried and adhered to the cloth. Sharp pain all over her skin, and it did not even stop as she stopped pulling.

She felt panic creep up in her, to late panic after all that had happened. She breathed to fast, but she didn’t managed to stop it. She had lost everything, everything she had worked for so hard. “Well, you could do that and drop out of the sorcerers apprentice program, but then you would be just an dumb pheasant like all the others. I knew you didn’t have what it takes. You were always not good enough.”, had Light Spinners mother said. No, Shadow Weaver would not dwell in the past like Light Spinner had. But really, she had lost everything her live had consisted off, what was she without that? She even had changed sides.

And then she finally realized that the clothes would probably be easier to remove with water, and so she stepped into the shower fully clothed as she was, and started it.

Fuck, the water on her injured skin hurt, in burned, it burned as if it was acid, and she clenched her teeth and breathed flatly, in, out, in, out. She could _feel_ the shadows in the corners around her pour together, become firmer, as if they wanted to help her with the danger. This was interesting, and something she definitely had to learn to control better.

Finally the pain got better, and she felt that the clothes adhered lesser. Cautiously, she removed first her robe, then her bra, soaked with blood, then her trouser and underwear. Her sorceress robe, the great honor to wear, laid on to showers floor, an pathetic, soaked puddle of fabric.

Her legs trembled, and she let herself sink down on the floor of the shower.

Heavy from the water, her hair had stopped to float a bit, and the familiar weight on her head was reassuring. Her own shadow was beside her, and as she drove her hand trough it, she could clearly feel it, cool and silken, and it reassured her how whole it felt, unlike her physical body.

She broke away from it with an sign, and started to assess her injuries. It was more severe than she had thought. A lot more severe.

Light Spinner had attended a lecture about this danger of magic; that spells that penetrated the body could cause this kind of injuries upon meeting the barrier between air and skin, just like there were burns when someone was struck by lightning even if they survived it. But usually these injuries would only be at the place where the magic was at highest intensity, usually the hands.

The Spell of Obtainment was either so high-energy or so widespread that these burns were not only all over her lower arms and her face and neck, but her whole body. Her clothes should have protected her a bit, but the spell seemed to have so much energy that they had done nothing against it at all but had just molten into her skin at places, taking chunks of her skin with it as she had removed it. She could clearly see the shimmering, bloody flesh at this places. Not that the rest of the injuries were much lesser deep.

Shadow Weaver forced herself to breathe in deeply and think not about in which ways that all could become infected and how would never fully heal, and how her whole body hurt. Just look at it as if it would be the body of an injured fellow sorceress, remember her lessons in healing magic. Healing magic had never been her strength.

First she had to clean the wounds, and make sure that every foreign object was removed.

Hesitately, she ran her finger over the line of burned skin that started over her collar bone and went down over her left breast, down her stomach, and stopped a few centimeters below where her pubic hair started, but thankfully at least there and not even deeper down, she honestly didn’t wanted to know how much it would have hurt _there_ , she thought with morbid fascination. Touching the injuries felt as if her skin would burn, rip apart, all over again, but she clenched her teeth and continued. Next she turned to the wound that ran straight over her hip and then tilted up her stomach.

It seemed to take endlessly, and she could not reach her back, but at some point she was finally finished, shivering from pain and exhaustion.

She couldn’t help but scream as she cautiously towled the water away, it fucking hurt so much to feel the rough towel on her skin. How pathetic.

She didn’t dare to look in the mirror.

Applying the balm hurt, too, but after a few seconds an pleasant cool reached the area she had lotioned, and the pain eased slightly. Again, she had trouble reaching her back.

The raw power of the Spell still boiled all around her, but her physical body was done, she had no power anymore. She just wanted to lay down and sleep and not think anymore. But she still had to bandage herself.

She did not know how she managed to still bandage all of her marred body. She stumbled back in the room, found an ugly but loose tunic and sunk down on the bed. Laying down hurt, too much pressure on her injuries, but she had not a little bit power anymore, so she stayed, and sunk into deep sleep faster than she had expected she could after all that horror.

_

Hordak had almost sent an soldier to get Shadow Weaver, until he remembered what had happened with the unlucky soldier who had attacked her upon entering the Freight Zone. Both impressive and unsettling that there had not even been anything left of her as Shadow Weaver had been finished with her.

As much as he disliked to have run errands like that, leader that he was, and really, it was not his business when one of his underlings was far too late, he suspected it would be the most riskless tactic to visit her herself. She would be lesser likely to attack someone in fear who she knew. Well, he hoped she would. He had learned a thing or two about fighting against magic in the last years, and he was in a better position against her than his soldiers, but to be honest, he was not sure if he could have a chance against her.

He meet two soldiers on his way to Shadow Weavers quarters, who bowed to him. Finally he reached her quarter, and chimed the door. No reaction. What an arrogance, to leave him, the Lord of the Horde army, wait like that! He chimed again, and again no reaction. With an hiss, he overwrote the door, and paced inside.

Now he saw why Shadow Weaver had not opened him. She still laid on the bed, curled together, her hair an floating mass of black all over the headboard.

Oh damn, hopefully she had not died over night. He had been so close to finally have a sorcerer for his army.

Then he saw that she was still breathing. Without the robe she had worn, she looked surprisingly petite, narrow shoulders and broad hips. He could not see much more of how she actually looked like, however, because her face and almost everything else of her body that was to see was covered in bandages. She did not look like the eldritch abomination from yesterday, just like an severely injured and exhausted soldier.

An clone this heavily damaged would have been discarded immediately. He felt an odd pang of sympathy rush trough him. Stuck in an unknown location, body falling apart around her – he had been in this position too.

“Shadow Weaver.”, he shouted. She rolled to the other side and groaned, but did not awake.

“Hey.”, again no real reaction. If she died him away from under his hands…

So he paced to the bed. If he would not manage to awake her like this, he would finally get an field medic (even if he did not like the thought of getting someone with these valuable skills near such an highly dangerous and unstable person).

He laid a hand on her shoulder, shook lightly. That was his first tactical mistake with her.

It happened so fast that he could not even discern the series of events that had led to it. In one moment he was standing beside her bed, in the next his back smacked against the wall on the other side on the room, something cool and silken and very heavy crashed into his chest.

In less than an second Shadow Weaver had gone from sleeping, injured woman to eldritch abomination again. Darkness poured towards her as if it had become alive, gathered around her bare, bandaged feet and crawled up her body.

Hordak had never understood his soldiers fear of darkness other than their senses functioning worse in it, but looking at these shadows moving in ways they absolutely shouldn’t, he couldn’t help but shiver inwardly. He just hoped she didn’t noticed that.

His battle instinct kicked in, knowing that most direct magic was harder to control on close distance. He had to get closer to her.

But already one step forward he felt the unnatural, silken something around his throat, and memories of Horde Prime, of his hands around his neck crept up, he was not going to get out of this, he could not fight that, and he was about to panic as the grip suddenly left.

“I am deeply sorry, Lord Hordak, it seems that I was still over alert from my fights in Mystacor so that I instinctively attacked you upon disturbing me, it is truly inexcusable.”, Shadow Weaver said, so different to her confident appearance yesterday, almost submissive.

Through the fight the bandages over her face had become lose, perhaps already loose from sleeping. What had been her face once was a pattern of dried blood, scab and bare flesh. There was a small piece of her nose missing, and of her right cheek as well. One wound cut straight trough her lips, and as she spoke they moved not as they should, seemingly the muscle underneath had been damaged too. It was gruesome. He had seen magic-induced injuries in his troops very often, but even the injuries the princesses created normally were not that horrific.

As she noticed that the bandages had become loose she hastily pushed them back in their place, then covered her face with her hand.

Another unwanted wave of sympathy rolled trough him. This would just have been how he would have felt if someone saw his scars. And hers would be even larger than his.

“After you have eaten we will discuss your new duties. You must be hungry.”, how did one care for another person? His Horde had been to orderly to ever need this, but now, stranded on this planet, with this horrific woman who a part of him thought was like him…

She tilted her head, her toxic green eyes narrowed. She seemed to think about something, then she said with a predatory smile: “I have… eaten one of the sorcerers who dared to oppose me. My magic is sated. It will probably sustain me for quite some time.”

Just as well as he should have known an dialogue with an eldritch abomination would end. It was not that she had eaten someone, the Horde army he came from had used fallen clones as protein source and he had never really understood why their enemies were so disturbed by that, it was the implication that she had done that trough magic and that the person had still be alive.

Hordak did what he did since he had stranded on this cursed planet – not showing anything, appearing stronger than he was and confidently raising his voice: “Your magic may be in best functionality, but your physical body seems not. I found you passed out just some minutes before. You will eat something that is not people.” Though eating people would be pretty useful in battle, not to mention demoralizing for the princesses.

It seemed to work. He could hardly stop himself from breathing out with relief that it had worked.

“I sent someone with protein bars.”

“Don’t you dare to sent some unfamiliar underling.”, she hissed, but there was something else in her voice. Fear. She must be still more disturbed from her flight from Mystacor than she showed. Why should this eldritch abomination possibly fear something? But how convenient that she was still able to experience fear, this meant that he would be able to hold her in line by showing the same intimidating fake strength he showed in front of his troops.

Already at the next sentence her voice was smooth again: “We could use this opportunity to discuss my new responsibilities.”

And so he ran underlings errands for the second time this day.

As he came back, she had changed into the only slightly more clean battered robe from yesterday, most of her face hidden again by the bandages.

He handed her one ration bar. The first few bites, she clearly tried to be civilized, then her hunger seemed to get to strong and she swallowed and shoved the rest of it down in an astonishing velocity. She grabbed the next bar.

She must have not eaten since leaving Mystacor, and the fight and flight must have cost her much energy. Only now he noticed that she was quite thin, almost as thin as he was. Again this uncomfortable feeling.

After half of the next bar, Hordak wished to be just anywhere else. Gobbling down the ration bars was all to natural, but now – Instinctively? To intimidate him? – the bars seemed to dissolve in darkness circling her face and hands and then ooze into her skin and mouth. It was so bizarre and unnatural, it made his back tense and his muscles shiver with fear and disgust. He had the sick feeling that he would be the next devoured like this if he was not cautious.

“Can you train my soldiers?”, he was proud about how steady and uncaring his voice seemed.

She devoured an third bar, one of which normally provided half of the calories of one meal.

As she was finished, her tongue darted out to lick away the last crumbs of the bar. He knew not much about Etherian species tongues, but it seemed quite long. It made him oddly uncomfortable.

“It takes years and years to train people who have no connection to runestones in magic, especially magic strong and fast enough to use on the battlefield, and especially if they don’t have an natural predisposition for this kind of magic. Do you have capacities to make room for this kind of training?”

It made him uncomfortable to open up about the capacities of his army: “I have to run further investigations. But we do have a runestone.”

“You have?”, her head turned abruptly.

“The Black Garnet”

Her eyes grew narrow: “Last I was informed that the Black Garnet was under control of the Scorpion Queens? Not that their Kingdom was ever organized enough to actually use it.”

“They…ceded it to me.”

He could see her thoughts working, estimating how he brought the Scorpion People to give them their runestone, and then decide that she did not care.

“Have you managed to harness it?”, there was a hint of excitement in her voice that was new.

“We have approaches, but nothing really useful. I suspect someone with knowledge in magic would be more successful.”

Instantly: “Can I see it?”

“First you will get a medic check on you.”, he ordered.

Her smooth negotiation voice was back: “My Lord, I am in perfect health.”

“You have magical injuries all over your body that are who knows how deep, whatever magic they banned you for must have drained you heavily even if it would not influence you still, which I doubt, and I found you basically passed out, as nobody who is not greatly physically weakened would do. I don’t want my sorcerer to die away from under my hands now that I finally found one.”

“I will not expose my secrets to an stranger.”, her voice was smooth but firm.

“Then I will check on you.”

“What?”, she said, until she had caught herself again.

“I know a thing or two about medicine. And I will not let someone as important to the Horde away without examination if she is healthy enough to not randomly pass away.”

There was a glimpse of something in her eyes – pride? Gratification?

She attempted not again to hinder the examination, and was surprisingly unthreatening during it.

Her lung function was normal, her reflexes to, apart from that her hands trembled a bit. Probably just shock from the fight and the dark spell she cast.

Her pulse was too fast, her blood pressure dangerously low.

Listening to her heart sounds was a bit difficult, for he had learned to run this diagnosis on his clone brothers, so he was not quite sure how to deal with her breasts being in the way. Generally, he found it somewhat fascinating that Etherians and many other sentient species had these gender categories and that their chests even looked different, and particularly hers were not that large, but still there was soft tissue over where he would have laid the stethoscope on his brother. He tried around a bit, nervous to antagonize her, since even he knew that this area was somewhat taboo in Etherian society – but it was also just the area underneath which the heart was. She was soft there, unlike his own rather firm, almost bony chest.

Finally, he found the right spot. Everything sounded as it should.

He prepared blood sampling. Her skin was to grey and scarred to see any vains, and feeling them was also difficult because of the injuries, but she did not even whimper as he pressed the needle in. Instead she watched with an almost fascinated, unblinking gaze, how the needle sunk into her skin and then how her blood poured into the ampoule. It was ordinary, brightly red. He had almost expected it to be black.

“I need a mask.”, she demanded.

_

She used the time in which Hordak was away half to go trough her old magical practices, see what was different and what had improved. She had much more power to drain from now, but it had also become more intuitive, making it harder to access the very structural white magic spells. The other half, she was ashamed to admit, she was so fatigued and her wounds hurt so much that she dozed on the bed.

He awoke her from her dozing somewhen around noon. Something soft was in his gaze as he saw her lie there, understanding and sympathy, only for a moment but she was sure she had seen it. She hated to be pitied, but right now that was an opportunity to form a bond to the leader that could be very useful later. She would watch out for more of these cracks she could intrude into.

He brought her an standard Horde army helmet and an welding mask. The helmet was unfitting because with her floating hair inside and the thick metal that blocked most of her magic senses she clearly did feel restricted. The mask worked better, but it was still so heavy that wearing it the whole day would be getting on her neck muscles, and she would have to find one from an different alloy because this one again blocked her magic, but right now it would do.

She had seen one runestone before, Bright Moons Moonstone, as the palace had called the sorcerers to help them with renewing the spells on it. Light Spinner had to reach out into the magic surrounding her to feel the immense capacity and charge of magic of it, but it had been so immensely more than the amount of magic she dealt with on Mystacore that it had made her ponder about it for weeks. Even Light Spinner had silently wondered what justice was there in only letting the Princesses ever have access to this raw power.

Now, even with the thick, restricting welding mask on, Shadow Weaver felt the Black Garnet already in the corridor before it. It was as if the fabric of reality would vibrate with all the captured power.

She felt Hordak watch her closely as she extended her hands to sense it better, and paced directly towards the right door without him having to say which one it was.

He said nothing as he opened the door and went inside with long paces.

She almost had to laugh in delight as she saw the fear in the faces of the three soldiers standing in the room at not only seeing their leader but also a mysterious, tall, red-clad and mask wearing sorceress. They bowed. Under her mask she smiled. Was Hordak really such an arrogant despot that he actually had them _bow_ before him?

Then she saw the Black Garnet. She could feel the magic in it pulling at the space-time close to it. It reached till the ceiling, at least three meters, and had a dark red color and slightly opaque structure as if it was filled with blood. The edges glowed just like smaller garnets glowed if hold in front of a light source, even if Shadow Weaver could not see any light source strong enough for this in the room.

Carefully, she let her magic extend, softly pushed against the distortion in space-time the Runestone created. As she had expected, there was a clear barrier between her and the magic boiling inside. She probed further. An very broad barrier, no matter in which direction and in which spectre she poked at it. She feel it pulse under her touch, flinch back only to gather anew stronger, as if alive, even under the low energy she used. She was absolutely sure that, if she used higher energy, it would fling back enough of it to kill her. She would have to study the parameters of this protective spell very closely, surely there was one way to bypass it. Perhaps if she managed to sync her energy to hundred percent with it? She was not yet sure how to do that, but she would find a way. Or if she attacked it with such an amount of energy that it weakened, and used that weakened part to plant an wedge inside it to gather access to the magic inside? Problem was how she would do that without getting killed. Probably both at the same time.

She pulled back, and slowly found her way back into physical reality. Everything was much clearer to her, as she concentrated back on it.

Now that the shock from being possessed, the fight and her flight was gone for the most part, her female urges slowly came back. She noticed that as her gaze hit one of the soldiers and she realized that she had an quite nice figure, tall and wiry.

She also noticed that Hordak was actually not that ugly, his nose was strange and he could really use another haircut, but the shape of his eyes was nice and along with the eyeshadow and their all red color they looked fascinating, and his cheekbones were high and sharp, and his jaw narrow and angular.

“We tried to find an metal and an current frequency that resonated with the resonant frequency of the Runestone to get access to it from the inside, but no success until now.”, he said.

She had to nod acknowledging to that. This was actually not an that bad idea, to try to compensate technologically. Of course the frequency width of metals was too small, but with an mix of technology and magic, it could be promising.

The next days she mostly spent between exploring the spellwork on the Black Garnet more and testing how much different alloys blocked her ability do feel magic.

She had asked Hordak for some metal scraps from the forgery and tested them with holding them in front of an massive metal block with one hole in it, directly in front of the hole, and compared how much she felt her magic behind that. It turned out that transition metals were the best magic-conductors. Shadow Weaver darkly recalled some lecture that even had said something like that, it had something to do with versatile electron shells or something she did not really understood. Silver worked the best.

She was just exploring how high the percentage of silver had to be as Hordak entered her quarter.

There was curiosity, almost excitement in his expression for a few seconds until it was back to the default ill-tempered warlord. Another one of these odd cracks in his demeanor he had. She would have to watch out for them, maybe one day she would find out what was underneath them and could use that for her.

“What is that?”, he asked and pointed on her experimental setup.

“For the study of my magic.”, she answered evasive. Better she keept some parts of how it all worked for herself. “Why are you here?”

“I need to check on your health.”

She groaned. To be honest, it unsettled her to show herself this injured and ugly.

“You are to valuable for me to leave you unchecked.”

“I feel honored.”, she hissed, but sat down on her bed and bared her arm for him to measure her pulse and take a blood sample. Acording to him the data was better than before.

Then came the uncomfortable part. The examination of how her scars had healed.

She wished she had at least her welding mask on as she stood there only in her underwear. But Hordak did not judge her. He didn’t seemed disgusted either. He only exhamined her scars with an unreadable expression.

“How do you get the ointment on your back?”

She wanted to growl some half-truth, and that this was none of his business, but then decided for an: “I try.”

“I could help you.”

“Aren’t you a bit to important for smearing cream on someone’s back?”

“You were it who threatened to kill everybody else who tries to treat you.”

Touché.

“I think it would good to start with this treatment then.”, he said, und took the tube of ointment.

Shadow Weaver had to do her best to not sign as the cool paste hit her sore back. But she allowed herself to close her eyes, he couldn’t see that from his perspective from behind her. It was so relaxing to feel how he distributed the ointment, she found herself wishing it would took longer.

“I expect an report on your ideas with the Black Garnet”, he said as she wore her clothes again and left her room.

She spent her next days half in the Black Garnet chamber, and half in the one workshop open for everybody the Horde had, as Shadow Weaver had found out to her utter surprise. She had scared everybody else out with a few lazy tricks of her shadows and now sewed with a fine metal saw on what would be her new mask, an sheet of aluminum-silver-steel alloy she had deliberately asked Hordak for. She liked how physical it was, with all the magic roaming around her, it was easy to forget her physical body and this brought it back in focus. From day to day it looked more as she had planed it in her mind.

She also realized that she came to look forward to Hordaks visits. He had promised that he would fit her into the commando structure of the Horde soon, but it had not happened yet, and so she actually hardly interacted with anybody but him. It felt awfully lot like hovering between two conditions, and even if she barely knew him, she knew him better than his faceless minions, and that expelled that emotion a bit. Not that she actually liked him, or ever forget the balance of power she was in with him.

They had fallen into a nice routine about the caring of her wounds. She didn’t questioned anymore if that was necessary and if he, the leader of the Horde, or some random person would be better for it, and he didn’t tried to talk her into letting the healers care in any more ways for her. She would just bare her back and let him distribute the ointment. This time she actually wore the welding mask, so she could let her gaze wander a bit without him noticing.

She had just realized that he was wearing, in fact, an dress. An really flimsy dress at that. And now she could not unsee it anymore. It was nothing she did not wanted to see, not with how it outlined his waist and his delicious broad hips and those nice thighs, it was just a bit unexpected. But then, he must be all the more powerful if he could let his armor bare this much skin.

He stepped behind her, and started with the cream. She automatically relaxed under it. It was such a strange situation, but she just did not think about it.

Soon she would be fully healed and her arrival period here would be over, and she would automatically have to enter a power play with Hordak and who knew who else in the Hordes power structure. But for now she had these odd moments of quiet, and was it wrong to savor that as it lasted?

**Author's Note:**

> This also has an nsfw continuation: "Whatever You Do Don't Be Afraid of the Dark". I decided to split this up, originally it was just one story.
> 
> Please comment, I love to read your comment no matter how short or unarticulated


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